Devotion for May 30

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind… Matthew 13:47

My colleague, Pr. Dick Hutton, had set up the luncheon meeting with the pastor and president of the congregation of this city church. I had heard of their work and vision. They have reached out to two immigrant populations in their east side area. They have maintained a Lutheran witness through those who travel to come to their church for worship and ministry. I listened as they shared stories – hopes and dreams in the flesh.

But like many protestant congregations, they are declining in membership and attendance. Their focus is on the next chapter. I had hoped to engage them in how we at St. Mark might partner with them for that next chapter. A few ideas surfaced, and we’ll have more conversation, I hope.

It was a fishing expedition, admittedly. I was casting the net of the kingdom in uncharted waters in the hopes of “catching fish of every kind.” What will the catch be? I don’t know. But I have become convinced that in our time we must explore new waters and new depths. We are past the time for watching and waiting for the weather to change and the young and old who no longer worship the Living God to return to our churches. Fully 25% of young people, ages 18-24 now classify themselves as non-religious – and scholars now say it is unlikely that they will change. So, I’m prayerfully casting the net.

I recognize it is risky. I’m sure those two church leaders wondered about my motivations for asking for the conversation. I wonder what they think of me and our ministry at St. Mark? On the other hand, the riskiest thing for us to do in the Christian Church is to play it safe. So, I’m praying and probing and, I hope, partnering for the kingdom of heaven.

How’s your fishing going? Has our God invited you to cast the net of your faith in uncharted waters lately? How have you responded to this invitation?

God bless our fishing… Amen.

Devotion for December 7

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. Isaiah 11:1

We had followed the directions that the park ranger had given us. In search of fallen timber that we would take chain saws to and make firewood for our wood stoves, we had taken the right at the river and followed the old logging road. But instead of finding the fallen trees all we see was a landscape blackened by a forest fire: as far as the eye could see there were only burned stumps and charred earth. My friend took the truck further down the road to look for the timber we had been told was there while I walked that bleak landscape to look over the hill and see if I could find it that way. That’s when I saw it.

A blackened stump had a single bright green shoot extending outward and upward: the green in sharp contrast to the charred earth and wood. For a moment I stood transfixed. And the prophecy of Isaiah about the coming of our Lord came to mind.

Isaiah looked north and saw the burnt up relic of the northern kingdom of Israel – the wildfire of Assyrian aggression had utterly destroyed it. Then, looking closer to home, the prophet saw the bleak landscape of the kingdom of Judah besieged by that same juggernaut. In that moment, God directed his inner sight to the bright green hope of the Messiah. God’s people would not be annihilated. Instead, from the lineage of King David, God would raise a great leader who would bring peace and joy.

Centuries later, the Christ-child was born. And to this day he brings the green hope and bright promise of heaven to all who believe – no matter how burnt out or bleak the world may seem. Christmas means that God has not given up on us or his creation.

Merry Christmas!

Devotion for November 2

With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation… Isaiah 12:3

When I was a child staying the summer on my grandparents’ farm, I used to love to go to the well and, first priming the pump, pump until the cold water would come gushing out. We usually put it in a metal pail and, in the heat of the summer, that pail would sweat beads of water. Even before I took that pail of water to the house, I would ladle a tin cup for myself. On hot, humid days in Iowa, that water was so refreshing that I couldn’t imagine anything would taste as good.           

At St. Mark we have recently been refreshed by the wells of salvation. We have had three funerals in two weeks. This is not typical of our ministry. Nevertheless, over and over again we were drawn to the promises of God in Jesus Christ – specifically, the promise of eternal life. Again and again we would be comforted and refreshed as scripture was read and the promises of God declared. The Gospel was like drinking from that well as a child.

There is a dryness to grief. Oh, I know that tears often flow. But in the human heart, grief is often dry. We experience grief like the dry leaves blown about by the wind. We cannot control our feelings any more than the leaves can control the direction the wind carries them. And there is an arid quality to life when grief touches us deeply. Our hearts dry up and we thirst for hope.

Into this deserted place we call loss, our Savior comes and says, “Welcome to the wells of salvation. Here you can drink and be filled. Here eternal love will satisfy the thirst of your soul.”

To be a Christian is to know the assurance of God’s promise that we shall live though we die; that we shall be received into heaven and be reunited with those who have gone before us. These are the wells of salvation of which the prophet writes – and they are possible through the Risen Savior, Jesus Christ.

Amen

Devotion for June 23

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope… Ps. 130:5

I have not been known as a patient person for most of my life. Apparently, on the morning of my birth, I arrived in this world about a minute after my mother and father got to the hospital. My father used to say, “You came in a hurry – and you haven’t slowed down since!”

Recently, however, I have been taught the necessity of patience. During my grandson’s recent health ordeal, we could only watch and wait on the medical care they said would turn things around. The vigilance of his parents combined with their patience to ensure timely and effective care. Patience with vigilance was undergirded by the promises of God. As the psalmist says, “I wait for the Lord… and in his word I hope.”

And we have had staff changes at St. Mark. Some have been planned, others came as a surprise. In the midst of making the contacts and speaking with our congregation’s leaders, I found myself in that nether-world of leadership: the contacts had been made, I had done all I could and now I had to wait. Patience is a hard-fought virtue! Nevertheless, I had an inner confidence that God was up to something and my job was to wait, pray and be alert. Once again, the blessings of God have come in new staff members that I believe are “heaven sent.”

Patience, I am learning, is not passive. There is a requisite vigilance, a needed faith component, that waits with anticipation and openness. I think that’s what the psalmist is sharing with us. So, the next time you find yourself having to be patient, stop, pray and watch – God is at work.

Devotion for March 17

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul; in you I trust. Psalm 25:1

When I first saw the awful video of the tsunami in Japan, it was hard to picture what was really happening. Only afterwards, when the devastation dramatically revealed the power of that water, was the thirty foot wall of water real. There are two photos that showed the power of that water. In one, a bus is on the top of a two story building, the wave had left it stranded like drift wood – I can only imagine how that might safely be removed. The second was of local hospital: flag flying, only the 5^th floor had windows intact, the gaping maws of those windows with broken glass like fangs, open to nurses’ stations and patient rooms filled with mud and debris. Such pictures only hint at the cost of human lives, the devastation of families and neighborhoods.

The closest thing to that that I have personally experienced was a tornado in northern Illinois. I remember Chris and I grabbing our children and rushing to the only home around that had a basement. As we ran, we looked up ahead and could only see a wall of darkness, teeming with destruction, from ground to the top of the sky.

There are moments, some cosmic, others personal, when we are forced to remember that we are not God. These are experiences of helplessness when we slam into our human limits to control or even influence our circumstances. These are almost always moments when the soul cries out – moments of prayer.

The blessing we, as Christians, have in such moments is that we know the God to whom we pray. Like the psalmist, in Psalm 25, we know that our God is faithful and trustworthy no matter what the outcomes may be. This is the God to whom we appeal for the people of Japan. This is the God of unmeasured grace – who can, and will, bring good out of this. Some of that good is already happening, countless people and nations have been stirred to help and to give aid. We must pray that God will somehow work through this devastation to rebuild and renew the people of that great country.

Oh God, we look to you for help. Help the people of Japan.  Amen

Devotion for March 3

Show me a sign of your favor… because you, Lord, have helped me and comforted me. Psalm 86:17

The sign was unmistakable. Walking in the cold, late afternoon air with a brisk wind from the north, I heard the geese before I saw them. Their bleating was a chorus as they approached over head. Looking up, I saw so many geese that I couldn’t begin to count them: waves and waves of migratory birds heading north.

The sign was unmistakable. The weather forecasters may still call the season we’re in winter; they may continue to caution us against unfounded optimism with snow warnings or predictions of sleet and freezing rain; but when the geese fly north, we know spring is on the way. Winter has just about passed. And suddenly the wind wasn’t as chilling, the air wasn’t as cold as it had been just minutes before I had seen the sign of the geese.

There are winter times in our lives that seem to last forever. Apparently David had experienced such a bleak and cold time in his life. Enemies had risen against him. Then he turned to God in prayer. It was like seeing the geese fly overhead. So, he asked for an unmistakable sign that those who were against him could not miss. This was the sign that his isolation and conflict was ending in triumph.

We too turn to God in our seasons of loss or trouble seeking a sign of God’s grace and love. And the steadfast love of God surrounds us, lifts us and touches us with hope and renewal.

For me, this most often happens in worship. Even as a pastor who leads in worship, there are heaven sent moments when I am not caught up in the timing or details of the event of worship but lose myself in God’s presence. This is always a sign for me that worship is happening. God is showing up.

I pray for such a moment for you today… this week. Look up. God is setting an unmistakable sign of love above you. Be glad and give thanks. Amen